


oh no, the aloe vera!

by dreaminachittaphon



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: 3am fics god save me, Gen, I have regrets, Mild Language, im love my friends they give me the dumbest ideas, inspired by that one picture of vernon looking Mad while holding an aloe vera thingy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 23:16:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18303740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreaminachittaphon/pseuds/dreaminachittaphon
Summary: Where Vernon tries to sell Jeonghan a batch of authentic aloe vera from Jeju, which may or may not bring some issues about.





	oh no, the aloe vera!

**Author's Note:**

> you're fucking WELCOME min happy early birthday
> 
> \+ thanks midori (ptxptg on twitter give her attention) for additional inspo

Hansol sighed as he stared at the delivery package in the corner of the room, its presence haunting him as it sits silently. ‘A reminder’, he thought, that he gets himself into trouble more often than he really should. ‘One mistake after the other.’

He’s home alone and the silence is killing him. Wonwoo and Soonyoung, his housemates, had a comparatively peaceful life. At least, as far as Hansol can remember. The most trouble Wonwoo got himself into was in high school; apparently, his homeroom teacher classified Dungeons and Dragons as ‘witchcraft’.

Yeah, that was stupid.

Had he the power, his fixated stare on the seemingly harmless package could burn irreversible holes into its cardboard exterior. It was just a package, one would think. Just a harmless package delivered to him.

No. No, it wasn’t. Hansol liked to think that very package was the bane of his existence.

His gaze left the package and diverted itself to the ticking clock; the needles slowly, but surely, began to approach 5 p.m. with a tick that grew more and more menacing with every repetition. ‘It’s time,’ Hansol thought to himself, and with shaking hands picked up his black duffel bag and his package. Actions had consequences, and he had no choice but to accept his punishment now. The task seemed fairly simple; he was to sell the package to his next-door neighbour. Except it wasn’t so easy, and Hansol feared he may have to take serious measures to get his job done as he locked his front door behind him.

He rang his neighbour’s doorbell, holding both the package and his breath as he waited for the challenge about to come to him. A while passed until the door opened, and Hansol’s neighbour, Yoon Jeonghan answered the door, a questioning look on his face as he raised his eyebrow. Hansol took a deep breath before he began.

“Hello! I’m your next door neighbour, would you like some authentic aloe vera gel from Jeju?" 

He internally cursed himself for how sickly sweet his fake enthusiasm sounded, but that’s how he remembered the delivery boy he met. The whole reason why he got himself into this mess. The delivery boy, who said his name was Boo Seungkwan, used the same exact tone when he came to sell the aloe vera.

Embarrassingly, the only reason Hansol complied is that he found Seungkwan cute. Hansol regretted how easily he was swayed because it wasn’t just a pyramid scheme; Seungkwan succeeded in recruiting him and it was too late for Hansol to leave. He had no choice but to comply with what his bosses, Jihoon and Seungcheol, wanted. They had a voice tracker on him, forbidding him from talking about his worries with Wonwoo and Soonyoung and letting his bosses know his progress in recruiting new members.

“How much are you selling them for?”, Jeonghan asked distrustfully, eyeing the box resting in Hansol’s hands. He didn’t miss the occasional tremble of his fingers and how his voice went a little higher than it was by the end of his sentence. Hansol mentally prepared himself for the outrageous lie he was about to tell.

“You see, they were 50 dollars each, but-”

Jeonghan gasped in horror. “50 fucking dollars? I’m sorry?”.

“Yes, but-”, Hansol tried to explain but in vain as Jeonghan cut him off again.

“Unless this aloe vera came down from the fucking heavens I’m being ripped off! How could the price be so high? How much comes in one container?”

“300 milliliters, but please lis-”

“50 dollars for that measly amount? I can’t belie-”

“Listen to me, just this once!”, Hansol yelled in frustration, which made Jeonghan pause his angry rant. “The price was 50 dollars, but we know how outrageous that is. For you, we’ll take 50 per cent off and make it 25 dollars, how does that sound?”

“Lower.”

Now it was Hansol’s turn to raise his eyebrow. “I cut 50 per cent out, how-”

“Make it 10 dollars.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can go that low. We paid 50 dollars each, five-zero.”

“10 dollars or I want to speak to your manager.”

Before Hansol could try to convince Jeonghan any further, the door slammed open. In marched his boss, Jihoon, with a massive guitar, followed reluctantly by Seungcheol and the rest of the recruits.

Oh fuck. He heard.

“His manager’s here, and he’s about to teach you a lesson.” Jihoon, with his massive guitar, proceeded to hit Jeonghan in the head with it, who promptly fell down unconscious. Silence ensued over the room, as everyone stared at each other unsure of what to do.

Seungcheol tutted and broke the silence as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jihoon, you absolute dumbass. Who the fuck’s going to pay us now?”

“Hey, geniuses. Forget that. This guy over here’s going to sue our asses once he wakes up with a massive headache.”, Minghao pointed out, glancing at the unconscious Jeonghan on the floor, Jihoon’s guitar incriminatingly lying down beside him.

“Man, witnessing a murder just throws your whole day off,” added Mingyu.

“He’s not dead! He’s just… had a close brush with death, that’s all,” Jihoon tried to justify himself.

“Okay, so, what do we do?”

“Stab him.”

“Minghao, no. We need to get paid.”

“That’s what concerns you most about stabbing someone?”, Hansol spluttered in disbelief.

“Hey, buddy, if you don’t gain permanent scars, physical and otherwise, how will you ever learn stuff?”, Junhui asked, cracking his finger joints absentmindedly.

“I’m not sure being stabbed, of all things, is necessary to learn things.” Hansol only received a shrug from Junhui in response.

“Isn’t it like a thing to slap someone when they’re being annoying?”

“You fools. You absolute imbeciles. Slapping is not the same as stabbing!”

Hansol felt like he was going to have a meltdown. Seungcheol, Jihoon, and the rest of the recruits were taking their sweet time in figuring out a solution - granted, he was being hypocritical for not thinking of one himself. Minghao and Junhui seemed to find the situation more amusing than anything.

“How about we find where he keeps his money, grab it and make a run for it?”, Seokmin suggested. Hansol appreciated the fact that he was trying, at the very least.

"Unless you can house me elsewhere, I'm his neighbour for the time being. I don't think I can escape that easily.”

No one said a word. Hansol anxiously peered at the unconscious Jeonghan who would probably, hopefully, wake up soon. The only thing Hansol was even sure of was that this situation was a mess, and his once-promising future now contained images and threats of prison. How the hell would he explain himself? ‘I found a boy cute and got dragged into a pyramid scheme, and my boss knocked my neighbour out with his guitar’. It felt like he was the only person who got himself into shitty situations.

Chan cleared his throat to grab their attention. “Lay down and pretend to be knocked out too.”

Everyone looked at him with a hint of judgement in their eyes, until Seungcheol responded. “Good idea! We can still play it cool, you guys. On the floor, now!”

“Damn, Chan, wasn’t expecting you to come up with a solution”

“Why does everyone assume the worst of me?”, Chan whined while frowning at Junhui.

“It saves time.”, Jihoon replied swiftly.

“You’re not allowed to talk, guitar boy. Fix your own mistakes first.”

“I can’t believe you won’t use my idea to take the money and run.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll let you whores leave me behind so easily,” Hansol replied indignantly, offended that one would even consider that option.

“This is why we can’t have nice things, buddy,” Seokmin said with great disappointment.

Seungcheol clapped his hands together. “Did you fuckers not hear me? I said get down on the damn floor.”

With a sigh and a hint of reluctance, everyone complied. Hansol was sprawled on the floor next to Jeonghan with a feigned expression of pain and everyone else was more or less the same. The guitar stayed where it was, its existence almost forgotten. They prepared themselves for a good while, until Jeonghan’s eyes fluttered open and then immediately closed as he brought his hand up to his throbbing head.

“Fuck, what happened here?”, Jeonghan groaned in pain, glancing around at the strangers now sprawled across his living room floor in confusion and anger.

“Oh, my god, my head,” Vernon grunted in fake pain in response, clutching at his head. At this very moment, he regretted not becoming an actor. Whatever the hell he was doing, with zero mental preparation, was Oscar-worthy. “Who did this?”

“Did someone come and knock us out?”, Mingyu added.

“I think so." 

“And now we are all gaining consciousness…”

“...Together.” Seungcheol completed Jihoon’s sentence with a wary tone and expression.

“Okay, but why are you in my house? And why is there a guitar in here? All Hansol came to do was to sell me some aloe vera.” Jeonghan tentatively approached the guitar that seemed out-of-place to him, only to have his hand smacked away by Jihoon.

“Don't fucking touc- I mean, yeah, where did that come from? That’s odd.”

Jeonghan sighed in irritation as he put two and two together with a throbbing headache. “I’m not stupid. I think I should call the police,” he muttered as he slowly tried to stand up. A clamour arose within the seven strangers (and one acquaintance) in Jeonghan’s living room.

“No, not the police, please!”

“We’re sorry, Jihoon has some unresolved issues.”

“I’ll unresolve your issues if you don’t shut the fuck up, Mingyu”

“Try me, tiny boy. What can you do? Kick me in the shin? I’m terrified.”

“I have a guitar and I’m not afraid to use it.”

“Sir, we’ll do anything. Please don’t call the police!”

“Will all of you keep your goddamn mouths shut?”, Jeonghan screamed over the cacophony unravelling in front of him, and all at once everything was silent again. They all looked at him, a mixture of emotion across each of their faces. Jeonghan was annoyed at the situation and how his well-deserved peace was disrupted. His boyfriend, Jisoo, would be home soon, and he would less than appreciate this situation. Jeonghan’s head, surprisingly, wasn’t bleeding. That’s a relief. But the last sentence hung around in his mind long after there was silence. “Anything, you said? Anything at all?”

“The way you put it gives me a yet-unnamed emotion, sir,” Jihoon commented shakily.

“I think the word you’re looking for is fear,” Chan whispered, and Jihoon couldn’t think coherently enough to reply snarkily. “But yes, sir, anything.”

Jeonghan grinned gleefully to himself, despite the absurdity of it all. The opportunities were endless. “Fine, I won’t report you,” he announced, scanning the room. “But you’re all going to owe me quite a favor.” The eight men looked at Jeonghan with suspicion. “Oh, don’t worry what it is, yet. But let me hear you say you promise you’ll fulfill it.”

“We need to know what it is to fulfill it though.”

“Then that’s too bad.” Jeonghan lets out an exaggerated sigh as he reaches out for his phone. “A shame, really, I was so willing…”

“All we’re asking of you is to just tell us what you want of us.”

“What’s the point if you don’t agree to it later? No can do.”

Seungcheol breathed in sharply. “Okay. We promise we’ll fulfill it.”

“Great,” Jeonghan exclaimed in joy, clasping his hands together. “You’re all my slaves now!”.

Dumbfounded was the only way to describe their expression, as they all looked at each other and then Jeonghan, mouths agape.

“...Slaves?”

Jeonghan nodded adamantly. “Yep, slaves. You can’t back out now, you’ve agreed. Unless…” He glanced at his phone on the kitchen counter dramatically and then turned back to the others with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Hansol feels like he’s getting into more trouble than he was.

**Author's Note:**

> jeonghan and his bitches whaddup


End file.
